


Child of the Atom

by Zetaori



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-21
Updated: 2011-08-21
Packaged: 2017-10-22 22:05:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/243062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zetaori/pseuds/Zetaori
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik creates a new world for the mutants, but someone needs to lead them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Child of the Atom

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to read/comment on LJ, you can find the story [here](http://zetaori.livejournal.com/25728.html).
> 
> Warning for **mpreg** (not physically, though)!

Holding the fate of the world in his hands, Erik smiled.

"Let's change the world," he said, his voice carrying effortlessly over the rush of wind. "Let's make this happen."

Erik was enjoying this far too much, Charles thought. His voice cracked embarrassingly when he shouted back, "What are you doing?"

Sand whirled up, and megatons of explosive material hummed in the air.

"Oh, come on, Charles, you know what I'm doing."

And Charles did. Erik's decision had been made a long time ago, and now he finally had the opportunity to go through with it.

"So what do you think? Russia?" The shaking, eager missiles in the air swayed around to face the Russian battle ship, vibrating at the prospect of fulfilling their destiny, to destroy.

"Or America?" Another shift, and the missiles faced the other ship, indifferent to their target, just begging to be released, straining against Erik's firm hold.

Erik was waiting for an answer, but this wasn't the real decision Charles had to make. Charles' fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. His mouth was dry, and he swallowed helplessly. Erik was flooding his mind with glimpses of a world they could have. It was beautiful, in its own way. Mutants used their powers without looking over their shoulder. New-born children didn't know what it felt like to hide what they are. Erik was waiting for him there with a quiet smile that looked unfamiliar on his face.

"It's crazy," Charles said. He walked towards Erik, a tall dark figure in front of a flawless blue sky. "This means war. This means the end of humanity."

The world held its breath. The wind settled down.

Erik smiled at him, like he knew this would happen all along but he was still glad to have Charles by his side when it did.

"Russia, you think?" he said, changing the course of impending doom without even looking.

Charles didn't think anything.

"Russia it is, then."

Erik leaned down to kiss him when the ship exploded and the end of the world began.

They were all that would be left soon.

\---

Everything happened exactly as Erik had planned, with a precision that left even Charles astonished and surprised.

After Erik had pulled back from Charles' lips and the ball of fire on the calm sea was slowly burning down, the Russian president declared war on the United States of America. The reaction was predictable. Fact was that one of their ships had been shot down during a direct confrontation with the USA.

Bombs were launched with a speed and intransigence that wasn't even Erik's fault. They'd been ready for war for a long time. USA had to respond. Everything was suddenly surprisingly simple.

News stations covered as long as they could, reporting about losses and destruction, but were unusually discreet with speculations and forecasts. These days, nobody needed to say it out loud. Networks went down eventually, and nobody could know for sure what happened afterwards.

Maybe there was panic. Maybe people were unexpectedly calm, apathetic and hopeless. Maybe some of them fought against the invisible enemy.

It was obvious, though, that in the end, the rest of the world joined the war and humanity fell.

World War III began and ended. It was quick, but there weren't many left to appreciate it. Not many humans, at least.

\---

Charles woke up to Erik looking down at him, grinning like a maniac.

"It worked, Charles," he said. "It worked!"

Charles blinked, carefully. He had the worst headache of his life. Tiny stars exploded in his vision when he looked around. He tried to remember what happened, but there was just days of running and hiding and trying not to look too closely at the death surrounding them.

Concentrating, he recalled sirens and falling planes and someone shouting over all that noise, "That's it. That's it now, everyone."

He swallowed dryly. He was lying on the ground, little rocks digging into his back. The sky was so blue and bright that it hurt. He listened to Erik's footsteps, circling him.

"He was right," Erik repeated over and over again. His voice sounded different. He could barely contain his excitement.

Charles raised a careful hand to shield his eyes from the blinding sun. "Who was?" he asked before he could stop himself.

The rustling of clothes told him Erik was now squatting at his side. "Shaw. He was right. The nuclear war did make us stronger."

Charles tried to sit up. He didn't feel stronger at all. Erik's thoughts were blurred, separated from him by a heavy fog. "I can't …"

"Oh, don't worry. It'll come back to you. It just takes a while." Erik leaned over, and Charles passed out again.

When Charles woke up, the fog around his senses had faded. He could hear the constant buzzing of Erik's thoughts, shapeless and calm, and he sighed in relief.

There was something even more important, though. "Where's Raven? Where is everyone?"

Erik had been ruffling through stuff Charles couldn't quite see without sitting up. When Charles spoke, he startled.

"They're fine," he said quickly. "They've just …"

He trailed off and looked into the distance in a way Charles had never seen on him before. "Oh, they're on their way back here right now."

Charles managed to get on his feet. His headache had faded to a distant throb. "What?"

Erik turned around and smiled at him again. "I can feel them now. The metal in their blood. I know where they are, if they're close enough. I've started noticing differences between them, individual concentrations in their blood."

Charles was impressed. He was deeply, disturbingly in awe and there was no way to hide it. Erik's smile deepened, again. Charles had never seen him smile so much, but then, this was his very dream coming true after all.

He could make out Raven in the distance. She was in her true blue form and her steps were wide and confident. She looked like she owned this world, Charles thought, and he felt a lump in his throat.

Sean, Alex and Hank were right behind her, and they all rushed forward when they saw Charles.

"Oh, you're awake!" Raven pulled Charles into a tight hug.

Charles noticed how weird her skin felt under his fingers. He mumbled something reassuring and freed himself to look at her. He could see she was different. He wouldn't have needed the changed, confident pattern of her thoughts to notice.

"The others …" Alex made a gesture at thin air. "They've already gone ahead."

 _Gone ahead_ , Charles thought, feeling like the air was suddenly sucked out of his lungs. _Of course._ He had been a fool to believe they'd stay together now.

Raven's yellow eyes locked on him. "This is wonderful, Charles," she said, her voice mirroring Erik's excitement. "I don't have to hide anymore."

"I know." Charles sighed.

They stayed for a few more days, but Charles knew they'd leave soon. He felt it, every time he saw Raven move around with new infinite grace. This world was made for them, and it was theirs to explore and live in.

\---

Charles closed his eyes to see. Mutants shone as red hot presences everywhere, their endless powers disturbing the air around them. But there were new mutants, confused and hurting, their abilities a mere shadow of what they could be, but it was confusing enough and he needed to reach out and help and find …

Erik shook him until he focused back. "You can see them all now."

Charles didn't need to answer. He was his very own Cerebro now. Millions of lives forced their way into his mind.

"You'll learn to control it," Erik said, their roles suddenly reversed, and Charles wasn't sure he liked it.

Charles believed him, though, because he had to.

"We need to find them," he said.

And they set out for every single scared, helpless new mutant to teach them about what they've become.

\---

It didn't take Charles long to realise that finding them wasn't the problem.

The problem was that red, glowing lights went out whenever he didn't look, fading and vanishing into the dark. They found bodies, faces distorted in pain and horror.

Charles fell to his knees next to a young woman who had jumped off a bridge. He stroked over her bloody, broken arms, tears burning in his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry we didn't make it in time to save you."

Erik pulled him up to his feet, his fingers digging painfully into his shoulder. "It's not your fault," he said. "I doubt we could've helped her."

And eventually, Charles had to admit Erik was right. They saw suicides wherever they went, and no matter how fast they ran, how loud they shouted and no matter how far Charles strained his powers to stop, explain, beg, new-born mutants found their way to escape from themselves.

"There have always been those too weak to handle their powers." Erik had stopped smiling that much, but he still looked different from before. Charles often looked at him when he slept, thinking and wondering until the sun came up.

"But this is not a whim of nature! This is our doing!" His voice echoed through a hollow world.

Erik started to walk away, pulling Charles with him. "We've given them a gift. It's their decision what to make of it."

Charles rarely shouted, but now he couldn't stop himself. "It's obvious they didn't want it!"

Erik stopped to gaze into the sky. It has become a habit of his, inexplicable and mysterious. He rummaged in the bag to pull out a bottle of water.

Charles accepted it defiantly. The first sip calmed his nerves. He took another one and sat down on the dusty ground.

"Accept it," Erik spoke to the sky. "Humanity has failed. There are no other options left."

Erik's thoughts floated through Charles with ease like the air he breathed. It wasn't right, none of this was, but Charles didn't know what to do.

They found other mutants that were scared and curious, wide-eyed and unbelieving, psyched and megalomaniac. Charles handled them with patience and care, and Erik smiled at him, speaking louder than words could, _I told you so._

When Charles sat down with Erik to stare into the sky, he was blinded. It seemed so much bluer and brighter now, but maybe that was just his imagination. In any case, there was nothing to look at, but Erik would stay motionless for hours. Erik's permission to look into his thoughts whenever he wanted was still standing, but not helpful at all.

"What do you see?" Charles asked on one day that wasn't different from any other.

A quiet shiver rippled over Erik's face, like he was waking from a dream. "I'm not sure," he said quietly, pausing between the words. Then, he blinked quickly and turned his attention on Charles. "I think I see a way."

They met mutants who, like them, had possessed powers before that were now amplified. They called themselves the _old ones_ and their eyes were shining when they recognised Erik. Erik shook hands and smiled again. Charles stood a few steps away and watched their circle draw closer and closer around Erik. He made sure they left before anyone started to ask Erik for answers. The question _what should we do?_ was already written clearly across their faces. They called him _saviour_ in their thoughts and sometimes, it wasn't easy for Charles to stop himself from doing the same.

It was dangerous, though. Erik shouldn't be the one to be in charge, and Charles shouldn't be either. They both knew that, even if they knew little else.

They just kept on walking, trying to keep clear of fights and murder. Sometimes, they had to kill. Charles could barely stand the pain of regret in Erik's mind when he bent a bullet back to its owner, but it was necessary each single time.

Every day was hotter than the last. Erik pretended not to lead the way, but Charles followed nevertheless. Water became rare. The nights were cold.

"We'll always have each other," Erik whispered into Charles' mind in complete darkness. They'd both been lonelier before.

At nights, Charles searched Erik's mind. There was a part there, closed off and hidden, that grew with every passing day. Charles didn't dare go there, and he doubted Erik knew it existed. But when Charles felt around the edges and walls, it gave off an idea of shining bright hope, a labyrinth of events and decisions and absolute certainty.

Maybe it was the way to go. Maybe they weren't meant to know.

They just kept on going.

\---

One lonely, cold night, with no lights but the stars, Erik reached out for Charles.

They melt into each other with ease, bodies and minds shifting and fitting, trying to get closer with each breath.

It felt new, changed along with everything else. Erik moaned into their kiss, gentle and determined, and Charles pulled him above him, letting the weight press him down against brittle sand.

After days and days of aimless marches, this place finally felt right. The time felt right. Erik's hands sliding under his torn clothes had never felt wrong.

"There's love in this world, Charles," Erik said. "Even if you can't see it yet." His voice sounded different. The words weren't really his.

Charles needed him so much it hurt. He pulled him closer and closer, trying to erase from both their memories the feeling when they weren't touching.

Erik's mind pushed against him, desperate to be let in, and Charles opened up. Their thoughts mingled in calm, familiar patterns, but underneath it all, he could feel the hidden part he had noticed, glowing, bright and golden, and expanding. It wrapped around him, threatening to swallow him whole, and all he could do was take a deep breath and let himself be drowned.

He couldn't see or understand, but he could feel. He felt a plan, a divine, perfect thought that would save them all and for this one second, the world didn't seem empty and bleak, but full of possibilities, like a new home.

He held on to Erik, his fingers digging into his shoulders, his head rolling back to look into the night sky as they came together in one glorious shock of emotions.

His body shivered around Erik, spent and overwhelmed, and his mind burned. He tried to remember what he had seen in Erik's mind, but it ran out of his consciousness like water through his fingers.

They fell asleep holding each other, a blanket thrown over their cooling bodies, and the next morning, everything that happened seemed even more inexplicable.

"You and me," Erik said, taking Charles' hand as they continued their way through the desert. "And this perfect world around us."

"The world you've created," Charles replied, surprised about the lack of bitterness in his own words.

Erik ran a hand through his hair. "The world we're going to shape and live in and make our own."

Charles closed his eyes to see through Erik's. The world was basked in a bright golden glow.

\---

They kept on doing what they did. They avoided the last dying humans and found mutants. They talked or ran. They killed when they had to. They helped when they could. Sometimes, they heard rumours about their old friends and they had to remind themselves not to pack their things and go after them. It was their decision and their unexpected chance of growing up like they should.

And Charles and Erik still had each other.

Nothing had changed, but Charles thought something was different with him. He felt tired during the days. His skin itched. Sometimes, he was so dizzy he had to reach out for Erik, who steadied him without a comment.

The world stayed basked in that golden glow as soon as the sun rose over the endless sand.

His head hurt.

"It's probably your powers," Erik said. "You're wearing yourself out." He seemed a bit worried, but not too much. His eyes were fixed ahead.

"Yeah." But Charles knew it wasn't that.

He didn't tell Erik that his powers felt changed, somehow. Everything he picked up seemed perturbed, less clear. It was similar to an interference with another telepath, but he couldn't sense anyone near, no matter how hard he tried.

With Erik wrapped around him at nights, breathing softly against his neck, he concentrated, searched, tried to understand, but he came up empty and soaked in sweat. His headache got worse and worse.

When he managed to fall asleep, he dreamed of a blond boy that looked vaguely familiar. He opened his mouth to speak, but Charles woke up and the image slipped away.

They didn't talk about his condition any more. There were days when Charles could barely keep up with Erik's pace. Erik never slowed down and never asked, but there was a line of worry etched into his forehead, deepening with every passing day. He started to look at Charles when he thought Charles didn't notice, and that made him anxious.

It took weeks until the boy in his dreams spoke to him. He didn't say much, and he rarely opened his mouth to speak.

"It'll be okay," he said.

Charles swallowed, unable to respond.

"It'll make sense, I promise." The boy's skin glowed golden, just like the light he was bathing in. He was the most beautiful thing Charles had ever seen. He wanted to reach out, but his own body was an illusion.

"Don't be afraid. You mustn't be afraid."

When he woke up, he looked into Erik's eyes and a shiver ran down his spine.

"Did you …" he trailed off when he saw Erik's honest confusion.

He got up without Erik's help and began to walk.

The world was still as empty and scary, but it hurt less.

Time passed. The dreams continued. Erik stopped talking to him, or maybe Charles did.

He had realised what was wrong with him long before he could even get close to accepting the sheer possibility, and very long before he could bring himself to say the words.

\---

"I know what's wrong with me."

The day was as good as any other. They had nearly crossed the desert. They should find water and food soon enough. Next to their path, green grass grew in the abyss. "I just don't know how to say this."

Erik didn't even turn around. The sun had tanned his skin where Charles' just burned. He was never thirsty or hungry. This world was made for him.

Charles sat down, right where he was standing. He couldn't go on one more step like this. The night was already near. "There's a life inside me."

Erik stopped dead in his tracks, his right foot barely touching the ground. "What?"

"I don't know. I can feel something inside of me." His fingers hovered over his temples, to show Erik what he meant and to get in touch with another mind like he'd been doing unconsciously for a long time now.

"Like … a baby?"

The word sat between them, almost tangible with its heavy implications.

"Maybe."

Erik's eyes dropped down to his stomach, unchanged and flat, and Charles shielded it with his hands.

"This is ridiculous." Erik's words came out fast and hard. "This is impossible."

His face looked like a mask. He didn't blink.

"I know," Charles said. "I know."

He felt a sickness that started deep down in his stomach and bubbled up through his throat.

"So you can hear it," Erik said, mirroring Charles' gesture, his fingers shaking with so much anger that Charles had to look away. "Have you maybe considered the possibility that you're picking up on someone? Anyone? Maybe someone invisible, or whatever?"

Charles still stared at the ground. He laughed, the sound choked and unhappy. "Of course I have. Don't think I haven't."

He could feel fear swinging towards panic rolling off from Erik and it made him look at him again, just in time to catch Erik mouthing, obviously unable to find his voice, "How?"

"I have no idea!" Charles was suddenly desperate and, above all, tired. "I didn't know it could happen. I don't know what happened. Maybe it's because of what you –"

Erik took a step towards him. "Don't."

Charles swallowed down all the words left. "I think it's our child, Erik," he whispered instead after a deep breath, wishing the wind would carry his words away before Erik could hear them. "I think something happened when we …"

He received the picture clear from Erik's head, skin on skin, along with Erik's pleasure and his hungry, desperate wish for … Everything was blurred before he could understand, plastered with one word, sorry, sorry, sorry, and the connection broke.

Erik opened his mouth as if he tried to say something, but then he closed it again. He laid down without a word.

Charles stared out into the distance. He could still hear Erik's voice saying sorry, but it didn't make sense. Nothing did.

Eventually, he went to sleep.

The night was cold when they didn't share their heat.

\---

Charles woke up, and Erik was gone.

\---

Charles was alone. The world was empty. He survived.

There was no trail, no glimpse of Erik, but he could still feel his presence, a glaring red spot in the distance, amongst thousands. It was comforting to know him safe, but it made him spend hours and hours at night watching and wondering.

He didn't go looking for him. There was just no point. He couldn't even bring himself to be angry. If he had had the option to run, maybe he would have too.

He made sure to leave the desert sun behind as quickly as possible, his skin peeling and his thoughts sizzling. He found a tiny brook trickling over rough stones, and he fell down next to it, barely able to raise his hand to his mouth.

His exhaustion grew with every day. He moved slowly, keeping in the shadows, until he collapsed under a protrusion in the mountains and decided he couldn't go on. He only had water for a few more days, but at the rate his strength left him, he wouldn't need more.

He had lost all track of time long ago.

He knew why he was getting weaker by the day.

Someone called him, without a name, but the intention was clear. For one wonderful moment, Charles thought it was Erik's voice. Then, he realised his mistake. It was much closer.

"No," he said, accidentally speaking out loud. "No!"

The calling stopped, and he sagged back, drained from the effort of stopping the forming connection. He wasn't ready for this. He didn't think he'd ever be. It was freaking him out on a level he didn't think possible. It took most of his strength to shut everything out.

As long as he was able to prevent himself hearing, feeling, accepting, it didn't exist. It shouldn't exist, and it couldn't exist. It didn't make any sense, no matter how hard he tried to come up with an explanation.

When he passed out with exhaustion, he dreamed again. The boy stood in front of him, a glowing symbol of hope and love, saying, "I'm sorry. I really am, but you need to get through this. And you can."

Charles shook his head, slowly, having lost the battle long ago.

"Get up now. Keep walking."

When Charles woke up, panting and hurting, he felt tears wetting his cheeks. He allowed himself just one last moment of pain before he scrambled to his feet and started to walk.

His hand ran carefully down his body, unchanged to the outside. "I know you miss him," he whispered without moving his lips. "I miss him too."

\---

Talking to the mind inside of him turned out to be completely natural and easy. He realised he'd been doing it for a long time now. He didn't get answers, not in words, not even in images, but he knew there was someone listening and responding.

At first, he casually mentioned what he was doing, what he was planning and hoping from day to day. It became repetitive soon, so he started to explain how he got here, what happened to lead up to this, and Erik. Most of all, he talked about Erik, and it felt important to do this.

"It wasn't really his fault that he left," Charles said, his mental voice shaky with emotions. "I should have seen it coming. I should have done it differently, or should have handled it myself. I just wished it hadn't happened that way."

There was no answer, nothing Charles could hear or feel, but he felt better after he'd said it, like maybe, it was okay. Maybe it was what had to happen, and it was a piece of a jigsaw that would come out right in the end.

"Everything Erik did turned out to be right eventually," he went on, reassuring. "Look at this world. It's not perfect, not by far, but it's right. It's what was meant to happen, I can see that now."

And he could, he really could. It was so obvious he wondered why he had failed to realise earlier.

When he let him, the boy in his dreams told him things. He forgot about them when he woke up, but after each time, he saw the world a little more clearly.

There were events that had to happen to make everything become what it should be. He couldn't name them, couldn't describe individual decisions or see the path, but he knew everything was already there, laid out for the one who could.

"No matter what you are," he said once to the invisible mind inside of him, "you were made out of love. And there can't be anything wrong with that."

Nobody answered.

The boy in his dreams smiled a sad, lopsided grin that looked so much like Erik's that Charles felt punched in the gut. "Do not be afraid."

"How could I not be?" The ground shook under his feet, and he felt around for a stone wall he could steady himself against.

"You have to believe me that everything will be okay in the end."

The ground crumpled beneath him and he woke up alone. He let his fingers rest against his temple and spoke softly into himself, "I know you're there."

And it became obvious they didn't have much more time. Charles' body and mind weren't able to sustain two lives.

"I'm killing you," the boy told him when Charles stared into the darkness. The boy's eyes were Erik's, and they pierced him with their seriousness just the same. "You need to hurry."

\---

With a constant feeling to know exactly which way to turn, where to rest and when to hide, Charles had stopped believing in luck long ago. He followed where his feet took him and believed in a plan that was greater than him, because he was too weak to do anything else.

His powers were down to a minimum, a state he remembered only vaguely from his earliest years, so he saw the mutant with his eyes before he could hear him. He had been deliberately kept away from anyone else for such a long time now that he blinked a few times to make sure he wasn't hallucinating.

The man was covered in dust from head to toe, but his clothes were new. A quick, disturbingly strenuous gaze into his mind told Charles he was roaming the world alone because he liked it better that way. He was one of the _old ones_ , his powers strong and under control.

Charles approached slowly and introduced himself, his voice raw. He hadn't spoken for days. When he got no reaction, he sat down next to his fire. If the man wanted to kill him, he wouldn't mind too much.

In his head was an unbearable noise, emotions and thoughts looping endlessly into each other, distorting and misleading. There was one clear thought in the turmoil, breaking the surface just before Charles passed out. "He'll help us."

The future was laid out in front of Charles, shining golden and bright. Around the edges, things moved in the fog, undecided and possible, but there was hope. It was the same image he was being shown again and again, but he only slowly began to understand what it could mean.

The boy took his hand. They spent hours wandering around the shadows.

"I wish you could tell me more."

"I'm telling you what you need to know."

\---

Charles woke up from his shoulder being shaken. He groaned.

"Should I get you to a hospital?"

Charles realised he hadn't been out for more than a few seconds. He pushed himself up. "No," he said. "There's nothing they could do to help."

The man helped him up, a gesture that made Charles' heart clench uncomfortably.

"So you said your name was Charles Xavier?"

Charles' heart didn't stop hurting. The pain spread slowly through his chest. He nodded, carefully because his headache climbed up and up.

"I met a blue girl some time ago. Shapeshifter."

Through the haze of pain, Charles suddenly felt less alone. "Raven?"

"She called herself Mystique. We stayed together for a few weeks. She talked a lot about you."

Charles took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves, but he couldn't get his pulse to slow down. He gasped for breath.

The man towered over him, frowning. "What's wrong with you?"

"Take his hands," the boy said. "You don't have the strength to explain. Show him."

He let aimless thoughts run between them, words unable to describe, images blurry and incoherent, but he made him understand.

"That's one hell of a coincidence," the man said finally, blinking rapidly.

The only answer Charles could give was a coughed chuckle. "So that doesn't freak you out?"

"Believe me. I've seen stranger things."

Charles was really tempted to ask, but then a spike of red heat hit him and he bend over, clenching his teeth.

The man handed him water. "You're really lucky. I think I can help you."

Charles rolled down on the floor, his fingers digging into his skull, trying to keep on breathing, choking out words. "How? What can you do?"

The world started to fade around him, grey colours edging in from the corners. It got hard to hear anything over the humming of his mind.

"It's hard to say exactly what I do. I used to be able to heal other people, but now I can do more. Change bodies. Grow what hasn't been there before."

Charles gasped, not understanding, not wanting to understand. He would die here, now, his brain exploding out of his skull and there was nothing he could do.

"Listen to me." The man eased his hands from his ears, one finger at a time. "I think I could create a physical form for the boy living inside of you."

For one second, the world stood still. Charles managed to open his eyes and take one last breath. For a second, he wanted to say, no. But he was dying, and so he nodded. "Whatever," he said. "Just, anything."

\---

"It's over now." The boy walked backwards, merging into the shadows, disappearing.

\---

Charles woke up in a rush of relief and panic, and he was alone.

A man he barely remembered meeting sat next to him, hunched over something in his arms.

Charles' mind was empty. He couldn't think. He closed for his eyes for a second, and when he opened them again, the man had walked over to him and placed a warm, shivering bundle of blankets in his arm.

"Here's your baby."

Charles reached out, automatically, and pressed it against his chest. He didn't think and he didn't feel.

"I had to give him an infant body. It was all I could do. But he'll grow, maybe very quickly. Who knows."

Charles stared at the tiny hand that reached out for him.

"Well, I guess everything's possible now." The man's broad smile faltered. "Wait, is something wrong?"

Charles didn't say anything. The baby didn't scream. It just looked back at him with impossibly blue eyes that knew more answers than he could ever ask for.

He couldn't bring himself to touch it. He just held the blankets and let his tears fall without a sound.

Eventually, the man took it out of his arms and carried it away for some water, and Charles was alone.

The first conscious thought he managed was to get up and run. He could picture himself, staggering to his feet and just leaving, never looking back, only hesitating for a second, right before he made the first step. The baby wouldn't scream. It wouldn't shout after him. It would never come to look for him.

It would be gone, back to where it came from, like it never existed at all. Or even better, it would never have existed, just like it never should. The impossible could fade back into impossibility.

He wanted to turn around and walk away, just like Erik did.

But he couldn't.

He went over, ignoring the ache in every limb, to take his baby back into his arms. He was sad and confused, but his baby was too. He brushed away its tears with the tip of his thumb. The skin was smooth and new.

"It's okay," he whispered, stroking over his tiny body. "You told me it is, and I believe you."

The man stayed with him for a few days before he moved on. Charles never knew his name, but names didn't matter.

Charles gave the baby water and some milk he found in the crumbling shelves of old shops. It drank silently.

Charles was still hurting. Sometimes, he thought he'd die after all. The baby was always in his arms, but never in his head. He didn't know what to do with it. He thought about giving it a name, stop calling it "it" in his thoughts, but he couldn't.

"It's okay," he tells it again and again because he doesn't know what else to say.

It's not okay at all.

\---

Erik missed Charles.

He missed him with every second. He knew when he made a mistake, and he was so sorry it kept him awake, thirsty and aching all the time.

Why he didn't just turn around and walk back was something that he didn't understand himself, and when he did, it was too late. Charles was gone, and he couldn't find him again.

He still looked into the sky for answers, but it didn't work anymore. There used to be a part in his mind that responded to his questions, dangling answers just out of reach, but it had disappeared even before Charles had. He had never asked for Charles' help with this, and now he never would.

He roamed the world he created. It had come so far on its way to the world it should be, but the last steps weren't his to make. He knew as much, even if some of the mutants he met obviously didn't. They greeted him with something like reverence, like they expected him to tell them what to do. Running from this was the most responsible thing he'd ever done. Charles would be proud.

His only goal he had left in this world was to go back and make things right. Mutants everywhere were ready to help, but no one could.

At nights, he searched the metal of the world for Charles' blood, but he knew he was too far away.

He remembered this one night with a haunting clarity. He couldn't tell Charles what happened because he didn't know, but something had happened, something that had to do with the golden plan in the back of his head that led him sometimes and that made him reach out in that one moment when he hadn't wanted anything more than be close and closer with Charles forever and make this world theirs.

He had felt something change, a force darting out of his body so close to the soft vibration of metal bending under his will but also not, and it pulled around both their minds and something clicked.

He supposed that's why he ran, after all. Because it was all his fault and Charles didn't deserve any of this.

The day the sun glowed brighter than ever before, he finally found a mutant who was able to locate Charles, and a teleporter that got him there. Everything was suddenly so easy that he wondered if all of his former efforts had been completely meaningless.

"Charles," he said, taking in his tear-stained cheeks, the dirty skin before his gaze slid down to see another pair of blue eyes stare at him where he suddenly appeared out of thin air. He directed his words at those instead. "I'm so sorry."

\---

"You knew he would be back, didn't you?" Charles asked quietly, receiving no answer, but he didn't expect one. The baby wasn't old enough to talk yet. Their minds had never been connected again.

Erik took the baby out of his arms with ease, pressing it against his body like he would never let it go again. He talked to it, German sentences rolling off his tongue like a waterfall of sounds.

Charles watched them with awe and something he'd never felt before.

The night came quickly, and Erik gathered both of them into his arms. "I'm sorry," he whispered again and again until it stopped making sense.

"I didn't know this could happen. I'm not even sure what happened. But I'm sorry."

Charles stroked their baby's head, feeling blond soft strands of hair under his finger tips although they weren't there yet. "Don't be."

The words felt like they should have been said a very long time ago. "It was supposed to happen."

Erik took the baby the next morning and Charles laid awake through the whole day, sleep miles and miles away, dreamless for once. He felt like grieving, but he didn't allow himself to mourn because he couldn't think of a reason. He should be happy. Everyone was back. He wasn't alone any more.

It just didn't felt true.

He missed the times when he only had to close his eyes and someone was there for him, locked with his thoughts so deeply there seemed no way to ever disconnect them from each other, until it had happened.

Erik returned, balancing the baby on his hip with a smile Charles had never seen before. _Pride._ He watched them approach, sunk into each other's presence. They were similar in a way Charles could only fathom, and it hurt. It fell right into the same place where he kept his anger and loneliness and confusion, a solid lump of jealousy, completely uncalled for.

Erik settled down next to him and leaned over so that the baby could reach out and grab a curl of Charles' brown hair. Charles took the baby from Erik's arms like a heavy weight.

This wasn't how it was supposed to be, Charles realised. But there was no one to tell him how else it should be.

Erik didn't quite let go of one of the baby's little hands when Charles touched the other, and he leaned in to kiss Charles on the forehead. "He's missed you. I've missed you too. We've both missed you terribly."

And just like that, with all of their skin touching and hurting, everything fell into place.

It was golden when they connected, when Charles finally stopped and breathed and opened, and the presence bounced back at him, crystal clear, so familiar that he choked up in surprise.

Charles grabbed for him, his baby, his most precious thing in the whole world and held on to him for dear life while sob after sob shook through him. "I didn't …" he said, words failing him like they never did before. "I just didn't …"

And then he closed his eyes and spoke to his son, into his head where he could understand him. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry for everything I did wrong."

When sobs shook Charles' worn-out body, Erik eased the tiny body away from his chest and held all of them close.

"I love him," Charles whimpered and sent through, raising the baby's little fists to his mouth and kissing them over and over. "I love you, you hear me, little thing?"

Erik smiled, rocking them and biting down his own tears. "He knows that."

"It just felt different," Charles says, holding the little head in his palm, staring into knowing eyes. "But it doesn't have to be."

The connection had never been gone, but with his fingers on his tiny boy's temple, it flared anew and was there to stay.

The voice sighing contently in his mind was one he'd never heard before, but sounded familiar. "Nice to meet you," he sent back. "I'm your dad."

\---

"It's far too dangerous, Charles." Erik raised himself to full height, his jaw set. The life in this world still looked good on him, and Charles was lost pondering the tan and muscles in Erik's arms. "We have a baby to look after now."

The baby he was talking about squeaked in protest and stretched out his hands to be picked up. Charles heaved him into his arms with a sigh. He was getting bigger by the day. "I think you and me are both perfectly capable of protecting him."

Closing his eyes for a second, he added, "And I think our little boy wants me to tell you that you don't need to worry about him."

Erik sighed. They'd had this conversation countless times before, but nothing his son could make Charles say would stop him from worrying. Charles had a pretty good idea why. He could feel the frustration coming from Erik whenever they communicated effectively with just one glance. Erik's mood had become a lot better, though, when the boy started talking a few weeks ago, and his first words were in German.

Charles didn't care which language their son spoke in. He'd always understand.

"Let's ask him, shall we?" Charles said amicably. "He'll know what to do."

What Charles saw when he sunk into the mind of his child was an image nearly forgotten. "It's our old mansion," he reported to Erik, who was pacing impatiently around them. "We have rebuilt the academy. Or, will be rebuilding. No, could rebuild, I'm sorry."

The last remark clearly wasn't directed at Erik, but he had stopped listening anyway.

"It's what you've always wanted," Erik said slowly, his hand resting on Charles' shoulder.

"It's also what you've always wanted," Charles answered, smiling at him.

They trusted their son to be always right, but this time they even would have known without him.

\---

"What do you think we should name him?"

With a direction in mind, the miles melted before them and it felt a bit like they were at home already.

Erik frowned, but didn't respond, so Charles kept on talking. "I was thinking about naming him after your father, if you'd like that."

Erik's feet shuffled through the thick dust, no reaction visible in his body language, but Charles stopped anyway. "What's wrong?"

After another few steps, Erik finally turned around. "Why should he have a name?"

Charles opened his mouth to answer, but he found he didn't have anything to say. The boy looked back and forth between them.

Erik's expression changed. He raised his hands and came a step closer. "He doesn't need a normal name. A _human_ name."

The boy gave him a smile and reached out for him.

"And I bet he'll chose his mutant name for himself when he's ready," Erik said as he took him in his arms.

Charles felt like he finally understood.

\---

The old mansion was still standing when they arrived, and renovations went quickly even though Erik insisted on doing it all with his own hands. They opened the gates with a proud smile and a boy that had finally mastered walking on his own and needed them less and less.

Charles sent a message to all the friends from before and after the war, and many of them responded. They had seen the world, but it was so big it was too easy to get lost in it. Raven was the first to walk through the iron gates to her old home and when she hugged Charles, he knew she had come to stay.

The place wasn't big enough to take in every lost mutant that needed their help and it wasn't enough to change the world, but it didn't have to.

The fate of the world had found better hands to lie in.

\---

"He won't stay forever, you know," Charles said years later, his head resting against Erik's shoulder as they watched their son wander the grounds.

It was a future they both knew was coming, even if Charles hadn't caught glimpses of it through his son's eyes. He shouldn't do that, he knew, and he had to listen to his son's endless attempts to explain to him how nothing he saw was set in stone and everything could change, but this didn't seem like one of those things.

The truth about what he was meant to be had been clouded to both Charles and Erik for a long time, but it was beginning to settle in slowly. In a few more months, he would be old enough to set out for his destiny, and he was becoming restless already.

The house wouldn't be empty as they'd always have a family around them, but it wouldn't be the same.

Charles missed the old times when they slept in one bed, huddled together, their love almost tangible between them. He missed watching Erik train his son in languages, sports, fighting and everything else he knew. Most of all, he missed his carefree smile, because it had never existed.

Their son had been happy, but he'd never been without a burden.

He waved up to them before he vanished into the woods. His hair glowed golden in the late afternoon sun. He'd return once again, but farewell would come soon enough.

"I'm starting to realise," Erik said, taking a deep breath, frowning with thought, "he sort of forced himself into existence."

"I think how it should be put is that he's here because he needs to be," Charles said, taking a step away from the window and falling into his favourite chair.

Erik chuckled and joined him. "You're starting to sound like him."

Charles picked up the old chess pieces and started to place them on the board, slowly and deliberately. "I think he sounds like me."

The pieces were set. Charles opened the game and waited for Erik's move, but he seemed lost in thought. "I'm still wondering, though, if what he can see is still a mutation or something new."

Charles leaned back, forgetting about the game. "I don't know. It's hard for me to see what he sees. I can't comprehend much of it."

"As I understand it, it's all about possibilities," Erik said. "What the world could become. We've made the first step. We've created a world for the mutants to live in. Now they need someone to show them the way."

Charles thought about the world they'd been living in, full of hatred and fear. "It couldn't be me or you, and it couldn't be us together. It has to be him."

The day when they would hug and cry and say goodbye was near, but neither of them would ever be alone again.

Erik moved over to rub Charles' temples. Charles didn't get headaches anymore, but the gesture was so familiar that it made him melt into the touch and moan. "You know, I think everything turned out just like it should."

Charles rolled his shoulders and tilted his head to kiss Erik's arm. "I think you're right."

\---

Charles' and Erik's son was born with the knowledge of everything that was and is and could be.

When it was time to go, he left and went into the world to do what he was born to do.

Mutants gathered around him with hope in their eyes and the boy spoke the words that he needed to speak. They had been with him forever but were brand-new under the clear sky.

"I am not here to lead you," he said. "I'm here to show you a way."

When he spoke for the first time, there weren't many to hear, but whispers travelled faster then he could and people began to search the horizon for his slim figure.

"Brothers and sisters," he addressed them, his voice carrying over the perfect silence of more and more people. "I have seen a future that has a place for every one of us. I have seen a world in which we all can live. And I have seen a way to make this come true."

They were all suspicious at first, but he knew what he did was right, just like he knew so many things. He knew his words would bring a new age, and people started to believe again.

It took time until people started to think and debate and question, but when they did, he was ready to answer.

"I am Aeon," he said, letting the wind spread his name, "and I'm seer of the past, present and future. I was born to Charles and Erik, who have created this world together. I am child of the atom, like you all are too now, my brothers and sisters, and I have come to give you hope."

He closed his eyes to see.

"I have come to show you a world that is golden."


End file.
